My Hand
See how the past is not finished
here in the present
it is awake the whole time
never waiting
it is my hand now but not what I held
it is not my hand but what I held
it is what I remember
but it never seems quite the same
no one else remembers it
a house long gone into air
the flutter of tires over a brick road
cool light in a vanished bedroom
the flash of the oriole
between one life and another
the river a child watched
W. S. Merwin
The Shadow of Sirius
Thank you, Reya!
Not Plain Jane 
Have you stopped blogging Jane? Hope all is well with you.
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I hope all is well. I love reading your blog and seeing your knitting–thoes in-process projects and thoe beautifully finished ones.I keep checking in….
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Hope all is well. You haven’t posted in a while. Take care. You are in my prayers Latina On a Mission
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Beautiful Blog. Passing on an award that was given to me to you. http://lynnat40.blogspot.com/
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